THAT SAVAGE
by jink
Summary: Millerna's interest in Van and Allen before the movie's events. Very short.


ESCAFLOWNE FIC She supposed there were worse things than wasted time. The engine of the ship's generator thrummed beneath her and she could feel its monotonous vibration all the way into her spine. The troops mulling idly about reeked of such stupidity that speaking to them would only result in more frustration. If only she had a book! But the ones Gades owned were bawdy and she did not care for them. A card game with this band of scoundrels and cheats was out of the question. Even Gades, Allen's right hand man, was known to cheat. Clearly none of Allen's good sensibilities had rubbed off on the man. She half wished he would run himself into a post or get his finger caught in a door. That would at least provide some distraction. "Crickets! How dull!" Millerna stomped with a heavy toss of her strawberry blonde head. She snapped a twig in two and flung it petulantly into the fire. "Rebellion can be so bloody tiresome!" Gades grinned at her from the work table, whittling away at his chunk of wood with a carving knife. "Is her highness bored, now?" His homespun Northern accent was never anything but jovial. "What a shame she does not care for wrestling." He flexed the ample muscles on his smooth tanned arms. Millerna stuck out her tongue delicately. "I would cut my hair to the nape before I wrestled with the likes of you." "A double shame!" Gades clutched his heart. "You cut me to the very core, highness!" She waved a dismissing hand. "Oh, go back to your whittling, you're no conversation at all." Gades obeyed, still smiling. "Some lads find their tongues no better than this when it comes to parleying with you, lass." He held up the dry piece of wood he was scraping. She crossed her arms with a pout, eyes traveling about the belly of the steel beast. She could see Van sitting on the floor with his serving maid, close to the furnace. The obnoxious little thing was never happier or quieter than when she was around him. She was asleep, tail tucked beneath her. She watched Van's large, rough hands stroke her soft head, his fingers running with suprising tenderness over her pillowlike ears. Since when did that brute become capable of such a gesture? His powerful sides rose and fell deeply with his breathing, almost like a large cat himself. He was gazing straight into the fire, eyes burning in the ember's glow. Was he remembering, she wondered? Meditating? Or scheming prehaps? He was formidable, that she had already witnessed. If Van did not have a blade in his hands, he would tear through flesh with his own teeth. He fought as if it was all he had ever done. She remembered how they'd discovered him, bloody, half-starved and raving. It had been Allen who had subdued him, naturally. Allen's skill with the blade she had not yet seen usurped and the spindly-legged wretch was already spent. He'd fought bravely to the end however until it seemed that Allen would have no other choice but to end him. But as the boy, heaving and bleeding, moved to take his last shuddering stroke, sails of glittering white burst forth from his shoulders and fell fluttering around him. She would never forget Allen's face. He did not tremble or move, he barely even seemed to breathe. The color drained at once from his cheeks. Millerna, watching from the open mouth of the ship's portal, had been tempted to rush out and shake the life back into him. There was no need. As the king fell in a faint to the forest floor, a terrible wail rose from the surrounding bushes, startling all gathered. Out burst the little hellcat, caterwauling over the fallen king's body. She cursed and spat at Allen and would have surely tried to bite him had she not been so wretchedly exhausted. The wings folded and collapsed with a soft sigh around the inert body, feathers dissolving like snow in the sun. Allen's lips were white, his voice a faint whisper beneath the cat girl's sobs. "The Dragon." Allen, the gold floss of his hair flowing down his back, strode into the quiet of the boiler room. Millerna turned her gaze on him and smiled. At least he seemed to be in high spirits. He dug in his pockets and wordlessly passed chunks of sweet cane around to pacify the dulled humors surrounding him. Van took one from her hand, tearing silently into the syrupy pith with his sharp white teeth. Millerna stared at him. Was this sullen, brooding wolf cub really the son of Varie? Her beauty was the stuff of fairy tales, famed even in her own homeland. Her son obviously did not share her flowerlike features. His gaze was dark and intense, probably belonging to his father. However his body, though sturdily built, posessed a light grace that may have been her's. Millerna knelt at Allen's feet, resting her cheek on his knee. "I wish we could go back to Asturia." She sighed. "It is so dull adrift up here like a forgotten kite." Allen said nothing. His sharp blue gaze leaned in closely, meeting her's. She could feel the hot pleasure pumping into her face and couldn't keep herself from smiling at him. Softly words flowed down to her, the long tail of his fine hair brushing her shoulder. His voice, already rich and deep, rarely rose above a sigh. "My dear," he took her hands in his large ones. "When this war is over we shall fly straight for Asturia without a pause." Millerna still pouted. "But I wish to go now! I miss my father! And the wine of this countryside is ghastly!" She made a face. Allen's laughter rumbled in his chest as he rose, lifting her up with him. He leaned forward toward her and she caught him in her arms, his body warm against her's, his shouler blades sliding in her hands. "I enjoy a bottle of Asturian wine as well as any man. However--" He turned her head to face him, one gloved hand on her chin. "--until then I have your lips to sustain me." The knight was not lusty though he was bold. Stealthy, slow as if he were savoring her in the kiss. Her face burnt like a brand, clutching tightly to the stiff leather shoulder of his jerkin. His voice like a cat's was close to her ear, his breath hot. How incredibly soft his lips were. "Can any man be closer to heaven with you in his arms?" Gaddes, watching from behind, was already doubled over in laughter. "May the winged ones have pity on your soul, boss!" He bellowed between fits. She plunging her fist into the hardness of his shoulder, feeling the convulsion of his chest against her with his laugh. His topaz eyes twinkled. "The things you say!" "But they are all true, my love!" He held her tighter for emphasis making her gasp. "And when we have completed our duties, how much sweeter the honey of our success! HA HA!" He flung out his arm in a grande gesture. "For you, there shall be your father's court and your father's wine! And for me...." A hot, hard kiss. Sweeter than opium he was and twice as addictive. Van spat the chewed strings of cane into the fire, wiping his mouth roughly with the back of his hand. The sharp noise made her hair stand on end. Millerna turned around in time to see Van gently push Merle off his lap, leaving the confused sleepy thing rubbing her eyes and mewing irately. "Why Van!" Millerna giggled a little behind her hand, eyes flashing. "You have chosen to grace us with your presence?" Van's glowered at her for a moment before storming out of the room, Merle stumbling sleepily after. Allen sighed, watching him go. There was a trace of disappointment in his voice. "He's lost, that one." Millerna hummed thoughtfully, leaning into the hardness of Allen's body. "That boy! Why can't he just let whatever it is go?" Allen kissed the top of her head and smiled. "A flower shouldn't fret over such things." Millerna grabbed a handful of his shirt, her dainty lip curled in a sneer. "This flower has thorns, my svengali." Her nails dug deeply into the material. "Don't keep everything to yourself." Allen's eyes danced. "Highness, you are so rarely contented!" He rolled his eyes. "Alright, seeing as if I shall have no release, what is it you wish?" She relaxed her grip, her eyes traveling to the corridor that had swallowed Van in its darkness. "He is so quiet..." her voice trailed quietly. "Do you suppose he means to harm us?" Allen's arm was still around her waist, his gloved thumb rubbing the smooth skin of her hip reassuringly. "If he did, he would have done it long before now," he murmured. "Aye." Gades slammed his knife into the table's wooden surface. "The lad's got some demons in im, it'll take much more than our throats to snuff em out!" "Fate's not treated him kindly. A kingdom destroyed, a family in ruins..." Allen shook his head and paused. "...then that curse." "Curse?" Millerna blinked up at him. "The Ryujinbito." Allen's voice was somber again. Millerna's brow wrinkled briefly. "Ryujin--Oh! Those wings you mean?" Allen nodded, swaying on his feet lightly, making her body move with his. "I don't know much beyond the legend. The Ryujinbito are a forgotten people." "Aye, and for good reason too!" Gaddes spat. "Bloody demons!" Millerna snorted. "You're not telling me that Van is-" Allen shrugged. "I know only what I believe." She turned her face into his chest with a sigh and closed her eyes. She was too bored to think, especially about something as heavy as the young king. She wanted to forget all thoughts of Van and the mysterious curse that hung over him. Allen's arms were strong and muscular around her waist, the beating of his heart slow and methodic enough to lose her memories in. She heard Gades shuffling behind her, knew without seeing that he was scratching his head and shrugging. "Aye, I pity the lad." She heard the knife taken up again, his whittling resumed. "Blood oath, a nasty family business if ever there was one." Millerna frowned. Blood oath? She fought to keep still. Now there was Allen. Allen's arms, Allen's warmth and Allen's breathing. One thing at a time. She rarely had the opportunity to touch him. When the magic of the moment was spent she would start asking questions.


End file.
